Isobel had difficulty concentrating at work the next day. Her thoughts and feelings were all jumbled together, and she knew she needed to separate them into navigable piles. First, there was the double whammy of the MacBride’s debacle and Angus’s death. Then there was the argument she’d overheard between Aaron and Kit, plus James’s bizarre contention that Katrina and Jason had been dating. Aside from that, there was her successful audition for Hugh, followed by that little one-act play on the street. In the end, they never made it to Sylvia’s—she suspected Hugh felt awkward about it —so they had enjoyed a cozy Italian meal instead. It had taken a few glasses of wine to shake off the weirdness, but they’d finally relaxed, and Hugh had proven to be charming company.
She pushed away from her desk and paced into the office kitchen, where she opened the fridge, scanned the contents absent-mindedly, and slammed it shut again. She sat in one of the orange plastic chairs and spread her hands out on the Formica tabletop. Who was that little snot bugging James? He obviously wanted nothing to do with her. Isobel knew him well enough to read the signs. She had once been on the receiving end of them herself. Thankfully, their relationship had evolved beyond that first encounter.
But evolved, how, exactly? If she didn’t know better, she’d have said James was jealous of Hugh. There was no other explanation for his rudeness. But James had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone, let alone her, while he concentrated on staying sober. Still, the possibility that a potential rival could provoke him into revealing his true feelings was intriguing.
“Is there more coffee?”
Isobel stirred from her reverie to answer Penny, who was peering doubtfully into the empty carafe.
“I don’t see any coffee that you don’t see.”
“I meant is there any more, period,” said Penny. “The box is empty.” She held up the carton of prepackaged coffee packs sitting empty next to the coffee maker.
“We should switch to single serving cups,” Isobel said.
Penny opened the cabinets, looking for another box. “I guess I’ll have to go down to supplies and see if they have more.” She paused at the door. “By the way, thanks for doing my work for me.”
“What work?”
“The plastics release. I was supposed to do it the other day, but I was out.” She pulled off her corduroy headband, examined it, and then pushed her hair back again. “Two hits. Not bad. I usually get more than that.”
“Really?” Isobel was too amused by the whiff of competitiveness seeping out from behind Penny’s saccharine smile to be insulted. “Where’d you go to school again?”
Penny smoothed her skirt. “I started at Barnard, but I transferred to Holyoke after my freshman year.”
“Too many tempting boys across the street?” Isobel wheedled. “Holyoke is pretty much a convent.”
Penny’s eyes glinted. “I grew up in the city. I decided I wanted my college experience to be elsewhere. Boys had nothing to do with it.”
Isobel sat up straight, struck by a sudden thought. “Were you at Barnard when Jason Whiteley was at Columbia?”
The question clearly took Penny by surprise, and for a moment she looked like she wasn’t sure which of several responses to offer.
“He was three years older.” She snatched up the empty Maxwell House box and hurried out.
Interesting. Jason would have been a senior when Penny was a freshman, which meant they were there at the same time, albeit briefly. Was there some connection there?
Before Isobel could pursue this line of thought any further, Katrina strode into the kitchen, with Liz shuffling behind her.
“See what Isobel thinks,” Katrina said, waving in her direction.
“See what I think about what?”
“Katrina’s decided that Barnaby killed Angus,” Liz said.
Isobel looked up in surprise. “What makes you say that?”
“Angus was getting in his way,” Katrina said.
Liz passed Katrina and started opening cabinets. “I don’t know. I mean, we all know Barnaby’s a clod, but that doesn’t make him a murderer. Where’s the coffee?”
“Penny went down to get more.” Isobel angled her chair to make room for Katrina. “Is this officially another spa day?”
“Definitely.” Katrina joined her at the table. “Don’t you agree that Barnaby could have had a hand in Angus’s death?”
“But it was a heart attack,” Isobel reminded her. “And what about Angus’s note?”
“Maybe Barnaby stood over him, dangling his heart medicine just out of reach, saying, ‘I’m not giving this to you unless you take down my words.’” Katrina suggested.
“More likely Angus felt himself going and decided as his last act to use it to his advantage,” said Liz, ripping open a package of saltines.
“A PR man until the end?” Isobel asked.
“Exactly,” said Liz. “And it worked. The press is eating it up.”
“Well, if Angus weren’t already dead, Barnaby would certainly have killed him by now,” Katrina said. “The ICG merger is officially off, and Barnaby’s fit to be tied.”
Liz frowned. “Really? The press hasn’t gotten wind of that yet.”
Katrina’s expression was unreadable. “They will. My dad felt it was just a bit too much bad publicity for his taste.”
“At least now you can stay,” said Isobel.
Liz looked at Katrina, surprised. “You were planning to leave?”
Isobel bit her lip. “Oops! Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have said that.”
Katrina gave a dismissive shrug. “It doesn’t matter. We’re all history one way or another. Dove & Flight is on the way out.”
“I got more coffee,” Penny announced, returning to the kitchen. “Should I make a full pot?”
“Might as well,” Liz said. “Looks like it’s going to be that kind of day.”
“What did you mean ‘on the way out’?” Isobel asked Katrina.
“Don’t you remember what Barnaby said when he screamed at us yesterday about MacBride’s? ‘We can’t afford to stay in business.’ When people are angry, they tend to tell the truth—even seasoned PR pros.”
“And without Angus, half the brand is gone,” Liz pointed out.
Katrina pulled at the nubby wool of her pants. “I don’t think Angus fully appreciated how bad their financial situation had gotten or he would have been in favor of the merger.”
Liz shook her head. “No, I think Angus considered himself too much of an elder statesman to listen to a bunch of corporate bean counters telling him what to do. For Barnaby it was an ego boost, but for Angus it was probably an insult.”
They sat silently for a moment, listening to the coffee drip into the pot. It was Penny who spoke up. Isobel had almost forgotten she was there.
“The police are closing the Jason Whiteley case, you know.”
Isobel, Liz and Katrina turned to look at her.
“How do you know?” Isobel asked.
“They talked to Dorothy last night. She saw Angus in Starbucks with Jason Whiteley the morning he died. She said Angus bought tea for himself and coffee for Jason. Then he took the cups over to the counter, where he put milk and sugar in both.”
“Did Dorothy see him put anything else in?” Isobel asked.
Penny shook her head. “I don’t know, but she was very clear that Angus doctored both drinks. I don’t suppose there’s any way of tracing it now, but it all makes sense. At least, that’s what the police think.”
Liz threw up her hands. “So Angus killed Jason, himself, the deal and our jobs. I call that a home run.”
Katrina was frowning.
“What is it?” Isobel asked.
“I was just thinking…” She shook her head. “No, forget it.”
Isobel wanted to press her further, but she knew better. Katrina had also been in Starbucks that morning. Had she been near Jason? More to the point, had she been near Jason’s coffee? Was Katrina now wondering whether Dorothy had seen her do something and chosen to keep quiet? Isobel had just been starting to feel she could trust Katrina again, but now she felt that invisible protective wall going up again.
“You were there, too,” Katrina said suddenly to Penny.
Penny nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t stay. I ran into Dorothy on the street and we went in together, but then she reminded me that I had a press release to get out first thing. I don’t even remember seeing Angus and Jason.” She wagged a finger at Katrina. “But I do remember seeing you.”
Liz looked around the table. “Why do I feel like someone is about to shout j’accuse?”
Isobel knew what she meant. Something was not adding up about any of this, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“We still don’t know who tipped off the press about MacBride’s,” Isobel said, as her mind continued to churn.
“I told you all along it had to be Angus,” Katrina said, an impatient edge creeping into her voice. “Obviously, he was willing to do whatever it took to sink the deal, and Barnaby found out.”
“Yes, but…”
Isobel suddenly grasped the thought that was eluding her. If Angus’s goal was to sabotage the merger with ICG, and Jason Whiteley was about to fire Dove & Flight for the Brazil screwup, why would Angus have wanted to kill Jason? Angus had every reason to want him alive. If a major client was about to derail the merger, why would Angus want to stop him? No, it seemed more likely that they were somehow in cahoots, trying to figure out a way to bring down the ICG deal in a way that would benefit both companies. They both wanted the same thing, and Jason was perfectly positioned to do Angus’s dirty work for him. So even though Angus had the opportunity to slip something into his coffee, he had absolutely no motive.
Which meant that Jason Whiteley must have been poisoned somewhere else—and by someone else—entirely.